Remembering Lou Reed

I was a few months shy of 16
when I first heard the lucidly stark voice of Lou Reed stream over the
airwaves. I was just another suburban weirdo, looking for a justified rebellion
to call his own. I had spent those “formative years” sleeping around with any
album loud enough to drown out my inner white noise, moving through a steady
stream of Hardcore, Punk, Metal— if
they were screaming it, I was buying it. As it turns out, though, what I was
really looking for was a quieter sort of revolution, and at the helm was Mr.
Lou Reed, telling me with a frank honesty that there was freedom in the
composition. It was, like any great lesson, one I’d come to learn in time.

To say I enjoyed those first striking chords of “Heroin” would be an
understatement. It was on a snowy night in 2007, crammed in the back of a
friend's Yaris Liftback, when I first heard it. I can’t remember exactly where
we were previous to that moment, when that raw melody first came in. All I can
remember is how I suddenly became more aware of myself than ever before.

Everything I knew about music, about artistry, about writing — all of it would
change with that first overlap of beautiful melody. I was mesmerized, shaken
from a stupor of conditioned knowledge and thrown into a concoction of John
Cale’s haunting strings with Lou Reed’s candid crooning. By the time Maureen
Tucker’s drumming kicked in, sparse in its reverberation, my resolve would be
just as stripped, replaced by a wily knot that would take years to untie.
Though, right then, the song was just “fucking awesome.”

It would only be years later, waking up to a chilled October morning in 2013,
that this memory would even begin to matter. As the headlines would come to
read, “Lou Reed Dead at 71,” so, too, would the horizon appear most clearly.

I’ve always been a firm believer in the crossover of influences, the
collaboration of mediums in shaping any sort of artistry. As a writer, I can
proudly say that the recorded sound has had just as much influence on me as the
written word. And when I heard the Velvet Underground for the first time, it
became clear that they believed in a similar marriage, affirmed on the morning
of Oct. 27. With the news of the passing of a legend came an onslaught of
anecdotes from around the arts world, plastered against my computer screen. Amidst
the mass of legends, one story stood out in particular.

As according to Rolling Stone, it was
1965, and the first few months of the Velvet Underground playing under their
iconic moniker. They had began a residency playing in New York’s Café Bizarre
and in the beginning stages of developing their distorted and chaotically
composed sound. Management was set on having performers play more contemporary
numbers, and warned the band not to play their original composition “Black
Angel Death Song.” They went on to perform the number anyway, fit with all the
chilling accidentals in its string arrangements, and were fired immediately.

Though they would emerge from that loss victorious (it led to their
introduction to Andy Warhol, the man who would come to produce their record and
put them on the map of the underground art scene of ‘60s New York), there was
something bigger about that moment, something more pressing in my association
with it.

Incidentally, “Black Angel Death Song” was the first thing I clicked on Sunday
morning when I heard the news of its writer’s passing. The strings were
suddenly more haunting, and the story seemed all the more important. It was yet
another quintessential moment in the life of Lou Reed, a man who sang with
unbridled frankness, who played with unencumbered passion, and who inspired me
with the tirelessness of his dedication to honest expression. It transported me
back, seven years and a lifetime ago, to that night in December 2007, when I
first pricked my ears with another of his songs, that found, all at once, both
comfort and chaos within itself. Though I’d spend the lapsed time between 2007
and 2013 finding appreciation for the 40-plus years of Reed’s prolific career —
from “Black Angel Death Song” and “All Tomorrow’s Parties,” through “Satellite
of Love” and “Pale Blue Eyes” and even up until his Hudson River Wind Meditations — it would always be that
compositions that would stay, forever imprinted in my mind.

“Heroin” became, for me, a love song to the in between — it was everything I’d
been listening to up until that point and nothing I’d ever heard before; it was
the sentimentality of Indie Rock, the calm before the double bass in hardcore,
the simplistic, chord interplay of Punk and its cleaner cut cousin Pop. And, at
the same time, it was also the recklessness of avant-garde, the soundtrack to
the colors of an underground New York I’d only experience in preserved murals
and snapshots. It was everything I’d known, and everything I would come to know
about music, about art, about sound and about writing.

There are moments that comprise your past, songs that take you to a memory you
thought you’d left. And then there are moments that define your future, songs
that propel you forward into infinity.

Lou Reed, and what he accomplished before, with and after the Velvet
Underground, stood as a symbol for finding freedom in ones composition, and
pushing the statements made to work in a fashion of success.

It was a lesson I would learn time and time again in my own work, as I moved
through the progression of my writing and my own performance techniques. I
would come to face my own obstacles, fight my own battles against normative
expectations. And it would be in those times I fell the deepest, my resolve
threatening to falter, that this education would come back to me, mysterious in
its origins, all the while growing, like a backbone that stood rigid for honest
experimentation and freedom in the composition.

Even now, as this mystery’s been unearthed, its inductor put to rest, ahead of
me remains miles and miles of still shrouded possibility. But against that wall
of lessons I’ll stand, riveted, staring towards the looming unknown. And I’ll
try for a different kind of kingdom, if I can.

New York City Ska legends The Toasters were the bridge
from the late ’70s 2 Tone Records-fueled Ska revival in the U.K. to the one that
brought Ska into the American mainstream in the ’90s. Easily one of the most
influential Ska acts of all time, The Toasters were formed in 1981 by
Robert “Bucket” Hingley, a U.K. native (and the group’s lone constant
member) who had just moved to The States, taking inspiration from the 2 Tone Ska
being created in his homeland (The Beat, The Specials, The
Selecter, etc.).

The Toasters, in turn, helped inspire multitudes of Ska bands to
form, something that ultimately led to the development of so-called Ska
Punk. Having a hard time finding a label, Hingley formed his own, Moon
Ska Records, which grew to become the major American Ska indie
imprint, releasing music (via albums or the label’s popular
compilations) by The Slackers, Dance Hall Crashers, Mustard Plug, Less
Than Jake and No Doubt, among many others. The Moon label was a road-map
to quality American Ska when the music was more underground; the imprint,
which was artist- and consumer-friendly (like Punk label Dischord, Moon
always kept prices low), experienced its greatest success during the
’90s Ska boom, but when the music fell out of mainstream favor, the
label faded away. Hingley moved to Spain,
where he formed another label, Megalith, to continue releasing Toasters albums.

The Toasters were the cool elder statesmen of the Ska
scene and they’ve survived the fickleness of musical trends and an
ever-changing music industry for over 30 years now by doing things on their own terms and keeping true to their vision.

• Nashville’s Escondido came together quickly but very naturally. The project of Jessica
Maros and Tyler James (a solo artist who has also toured as pianist for
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros) got its start in James’ home
studio when he was recording an artist with whom both were friends.
During a recording break, Maros, a Vancouver native and successful
clothing/jewelry designer, was casually playing a song in the studio,
James hit “record,” added some light ornamentation and, essentially,
Escondido was born. That night, the two decided to make an album.
Fittingly, the album — Esondido’s debut, titled The Ghost of Escondido
— was recorded live in just one day with a handful of talented
Nashville friends/musicians, even though it sounds incredibly cohesive,
full-bodied and organic.

The making of the full-length, released at the start of
this year, was driven by the spirit of Ennio Morricone, the legendary
spaghetti western soundtrack genius, and that desert-sunset atmosphere
meshes beautifully with the band’s mix of Indie Rock, Pop and Country.
The end result is mesmerizing, a hazy, dreamy collection of haunted,
mysterious soundscapery and spine-tingling harmonies and vocals, making
the band reminiscent of a slightly twangier, more dynamic and grounded
Mazzy Star. Along with garnering a wide-range of supporters, from the
tastemakers at KCRW to the writers at Vogue, The Ghost of Escondido also made a fan out of eccentric filmmaker/artist/writer/musician David Lynch, who wrote about his love for the band in Mojo magazine.

Here’s the music video for Escondido’s “Black Roses.”

The duo (fleshed out by a full touring band) performs a
free show tonight at MOTR Pub in Over-the-Rhine. New York City’s Indie
Pop/Garage Rock group Unicycle Loves You opens the show at 10 p.m.

• Tonight at Covington’s Madison Theater is a good chance
to hear what a “Jam Band” sounds like in 2013, as several groups join
forces for an all-ages, 8 p.m. show. Or, rather, you’ll hear how almost
no two “Jam Bands” sound alike anymore, making the Grateful
Dead-mimicking cliches about the scene completely outdated. Today, the
“Jam” tag has less real meaning than ever, with the groups earning the
descriptor exploring a huge range of styles. Jam Bands now often share
little more than a tendency to improvise.

Headliners Dopapod epitomize the diversity of the modern
Jam scene with their progressive blend of Electronic music, Jazz, Rock,
Soul, Funk and various other styles. The Brooklyn, N.Y., group released
its third studio album, Redivider, late last year, introducing
fans to a Dopapod first — vocals (previously, the band was all
instrumental). Read Brian Baker’s preview of the show for CityBeat here.

The support lineup for Dopapod is a varied collection of
mostly local bands that reflect the same kind of sonic adventurousness
as the headliners, though, of course, each bringing their own slant —
Ethosine, Nevele, Us Today, Freeform Connection, Peridoni, Aliver Hall
and Blue Moon Soup. Tickets are $15 at the door.

• Though they never reaped the full rewards and commercial
success that some bands that came after them did, Michigan’s Mustard
Plug was one of the early guiding forces behind the ’90s Punk Ska
explosion. The band put out its first album, Skapocalypse Now!,
on cassette in 1992 and moved up to third-wave Ska’s version of 2 Tone
Records, NYC’s Moon Records, for its second full-length, kicking off two
decades of hardcore international touring.

Mustard Plug later joined the roster of Hopeless Records,
which would go on to become one of the top independent Punk labels in
the country. While the vast majority of Ska Punk bands from the ’90s
either moved on to another style of music or imploded after the “craze”
died down, Mustard Plug continues to write new songs, put out new music
and tour on a regular basis, its loyal cult of fans proving that, while
you won’t hear it on the radio anymore, there is still an audience
hungry for Ska Punk done well. Mustard Plug has been operating D.I.Y.
since parting ways with Hopeless; a new album (the band’s first since
2007’s In Black and White) is reportedly finished and due soon thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign.

• October is coming to an end,
which means Rocktober is also almost over and Rocktober on the Square, a
new every-Friday concert series at downtown’s Fountain Square, is
winding down as well. Today at 5 p.m., the final Rocktober on the Square
show starts with a set from great, rootsy singer/songwriter Josh Eagle.

In the 6 p.m. slot is singer/songwriter Mike Oberst of
popular Cincy Folk group The Tillers, who are heading overseas for their
first ever U.K. tour, playing Nov. 1-16 throughout England, Scotland
and Ireland as support for Pokey LaFarge.

The always fantastic 500 Miles to Memphis closes out
Rocktober at 7 p.m. It’s the rowdy, rootsy rockers’ last local show of
the year; the 500MTM fellas are taking a break from performing to go
back into the studio to finish their next album.

&lt;/iframe&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p class="p1"&gt;• Don’t forget — the One More Girl on a Stage benefit
concerts continue today after last night’s kickoff at various venues in
Over-the-Rhine. The OMG fest takes over the Southgate House Revival in
Newport for a “whole house” show tonight. Here are complete
details.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p class="p2"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Click here for even more live music options tonight in Greater Cincinnati.&nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/body&gt;&lt;/html&gt;

Benefit for Making Strides Against Breast Cancer expands to three nights, two states

After taking a year off, the One More Girl on a Stage
music festival returns starting tonight, bigger and better than ever.
Founded by local musician Kelly Thomas (Kelly Thomas and the Fabulous
Pickups, The Tammy Whynots), One More Girl (OMG) is striving to raise
$10,000 for the American Cancer Society’s Making Strides Against Breast
Cancer Walk.

Instead of hosting the festival at one venue, this year’s
One More Girl benefit has expanded to six local venues in two cities
over three nights. The lineup for One More Girl showcases female solo
artists and bands with a female presence (mostly) from the Greater Cincinnati
area. Many of them also happen to be some of the best acts in the
region, playing a range of styles that includes everything from Hard
Rock and Pop Rock to Bluegrass, Folk and many other variations on the
Americana theme.

Below are the lineups, links to venues and performers and a few samples from the some of the acts.

One More Girl on a Stage kicks off tonight in
Over-the-Rhine, with artists featured at four venues. There are no cover
charges at any of the venues.

One of the best albums to come out of the Greater
Cincinnati music scene this year is the debut full-length from Terminal
Union, which began as the duo of singer/songwriters David Faul and Ian
Mathieu and is now rounded out by bassist Lynette Mathieu and drummer
Mark Becknell. The members of Terminal Union are great players (as are
the many guest artists), Faul and Mathieu have some fantastic
songwriting chops and the arrangements are top-notch, with cello,
mandolin and fiddle sprinkled on top of the band’s sturdy acoustic
guitar/harmonica/banjo/piano core.

Though eclectic enough to be considered “AltCountry,” Terminal Union captures the heart and soul of vintage Country on Making Arrangements.
What puts Terminal Union ahead of many of their peers — and makes these
songs so riveting — is the emotional weight the frontmen inject into
the writing and performances. Being able to make an immediate emotional
connection with listeners is not something you can learn; it's innate.

On the song "Magnificent Sounds," the group pays tribute
to another pair of artists who also came off as instinctively talented
and able to bring a soul-stirring levity to practically every note
played, seemingly effortlessly — Miles Davis and Townes Van Zandt.
Veteran local musician Michael "Mad Dog" Mavridoglou provides some bonus
passion with his warm Jazz trumpet riffs on the track, which somehow
sounds completely at home in the band's Country/Roots context.

Elsewhere, highlight tracks like “Comeback Kid” and
“Devil’s in the Details” have the power of Steve Earle in peak form,
while the piano-buoyed “One of the Ones” and “I Fell You” are
wonderfully composed ballads that defy genre classifications — they are
simply amazing, timeless songs.

Preview a pair of songs from Making Arrangements below. Visit terminalunion.com for more on the band and see them live this Saturday at Newport's York Street Cafe, where the group will be participating in the One More Girl on a Stage benefit show.

So what the heck happened at the concert by the always dazzling Neko Case at the Taft Theatre last night? Case's biggest show ever in the Cincinnati area was musically solid, but didn't go as smoothly as planned thanks to flared tempers, the proliferation of smartphone cameras and some angry and/or obnoxious audience members. It's safe to say that you can add Case to the increasingly growing list of performers who are losing their patience with omnipresent smartphone use at concerts.

Case is fairly prolific with her Twitter account, but her tweets from yesterday showed no clear indication of the kerfuffle. Earlier in the day, she praised Iris Book Cafe for their hospitality and good grub and, post-show, she tweeted "Thank you, Cincinnati, you are kind folks," followed by some heart symbols. (Sarcasm?)

CityBeat contributor Keith Klenowski was there to photograph the show (not on his phone; he was credentialed) and says the problems started during the second song of the night, when Case stopped the show and asked everyone to stop taking photos with their phones because the flashes were bothering her. Things calmed down, people seemed to oblige and the show picked up again.

Several songs later, according to Klenowski, Case stopped the show again and appeared to be talking to a fan near the front of the stage about putting their phone away. Case made a comment about happily refunding tickets, adding, "Just put away the cameras. It isn't going to kill you, but it might kill me" and "You can boo and call me a spoiled Rock star. I am." Case claimed there were signs about cameras posted around the venue, though Klenowski says he didn't see any.

Case's reaction was met with a mix of cheers and boos; some people got really bent out of shape about her protestation. "I (saw) people put on their coats and walk out," Klenowski says. "One guy (flipped) her the bird and storms out."

He says that not long after the second stoppage, a woman came down the aisle towards the stage and took a photo before immediately being escorted out by security. Before the band returned for an encore, Klenowski says he saw another skirmish that involved a man arguing with security as he was being kicked out.

"Neko looked tired and even admitted at the start that it was time to wake up or something like that," Klenowski says, adding that the singer was apologetic to the non-heckling/non-photo-taking fans throughout the show and at the end of the night. "I got her frustration, but I have never seen anyone threaten to leave and stop a show because of it."

In Electronic music, the punkish encouragement to “just jump in and see what happens,” regardless of proficiency, resulted in the creation of Krautrock, Hip Hop, Synthpop, New Wave and many other styles. Some of the top innovators of those genres were driven by a “naïvite” that added a more “human” element (going against the common critique that all Electronic music is cold and robotic). Today, with the hugely increased access to affordable tools to create Electronic music, that more exploratory approach is back and thriving, resulting in innumerable subgenres and an unending stream of adventurous bedroom artists.

Cincinnati’s Randall Rigdon, Jr., is one of those bedroom maestros. Using the name Dark Colour (fleshed out with other musicians in a live setting), Rigdon doesn’t let all of those subgenres distract him, instead embracing a variety of Electro styles and putting them together in his own personalized way. The results are delectable.

Dark Colour’s recent full-length debut, Prisoner, is reminiscent of hearing things like New Order, LCD Soundsystem, MGMT or Neon Indian for the first time. Rigdon has solid writing and lyrical skills, but it’s the multi-hued textures, kaleidoscopic array of synth sounds, endearing beats and a shifting ambiance (showcasing his deft ability to create distinct moods) that set Dark Colour apart from the EDM pack.

Prisoner (which follows 2011's debut EP, Memories, a release that was pulled from shelves after a dispute over an uncleared sample) ranges from Ambient dreamscapes and artsy Indie Electronica to funky Chillwave and bubbling Electro Pop, with many tracks containing multiple elements of each. Frequently slathered with a trippy glaze of effects, Rigdon’s melodies are most often delivered in either a hushed, spectral murmur or a whirling falsetto, while the eclectic, always-danceable beats have a surprisingly live feel, even when resembling something conjured from an ancient drum machine. There’s also a refreshing lack of current dancefloor trends; not that it would kill the album, but dropping in a grinding Dubstep groove, for example, would totally break its often hypnotic spell.

On Prisoner, Dark Colour makes digital music with an analog heart, instantly catchy Electro Art Pop that never panders and frequently surprises.

• The first time I saw Neko Case was a complete accident. I
was in Chicago around the most recent turn of the century and went to
see Indie Rock singer/songwriter Edith Frost at the small (but popular)
club Lounge Ax and Case and her “Boyfriends,” as her backing band was
then called (really Canadian Roots rockers The Sadies), opened the show
with a great set. Though I’d heard of Case, seeing her live was
revelatory — the singer/songwriter (also part of Canadian Pop collective
The New Pornographers) has one of the most soulful, mesmerizing voices
in music today and, once I’d heard it, I was hooked for life. Case’s
transcendent pipes are only comparable to legends like Patsy Cline
(though Jenny Lewis has made quite the solo career aping Case).

Working in a folksy musical realm (though not tethered to
any specific style), Case has yet to release a bad album, though her
latest for Anti- Records, the recent The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You,
has received mixed reviews (likely more indicative of a press corps
bored with her astonishing consistency than the actual album itself,
which is excellent). I’ve seen Case numerous times since that happy
accident in Chicago — including dates at Chicago’s Metro and at
Newport’s Southgate House — and I’ve never left in any other state
besides “spellbound.”

Case comes back to the Cincinnati area tonight for a show
at downtown’s Taft Theatre (her largest local appearance yet) with
special guest and fellow red-headed singer/songwriter Karen Elson.
Tickets are still available for $35 at the door.

• Over the past two decades, Built to Spill has become a legendary cult band, remaining a solid concert draw across the nation and
releasing some of the most brilliant guitar-driven Indie Rock albums of
the ’90s and ’00s. Led by singer/guitarist Doug Martsch, BtS formed in
Boise, Idaho, in the early ’90s, and worked with a lot of Pacific
Northwest musical institutions on its way up. In 1995, as the major
labels were winding down their signing frenzy in the wake of Nirvana's
huge success (signing seemingly every band even loosely associated with
the words "Seattle" or "Grunge"), Built to Spill inked with Warner
Brothers Records, which has released six stellar albums by the band
since 1997, including the crew's masterful debut for the label, Perfect
From Now On, and 2009's There is No Enemy, the group's most recent album.

Like label mates The Flaming Lips, BtS has been the rare
band that has sold consistently enough to remain signed to a major label
for well over a decade thanks to the consistent quality of its work,
heavy touring and an incredibly dedicated following. It's refreshing to
see a big-time label stay so loyal to a group that will probably never
sell a million copies and even more probably won't ever have a big hit
single. (Despite rumors, BtS is not breaking up; a new album is in the
works and expected by the end of 2014.)

With its first three releases and about a decade worth of
live shows across the region, The Frankl Project has honed a sound that
has earned notice for its crafty blend of Rock, Pop, Punk and Ska. But
the Cincinnati trio’s recent album, Standards, showcases the sound of a band finding its own unique voice and running with it.

While those aforementioned influences are still evident,
the group skillfully and more subtly integrates them into something they
can completely call its own. What hasn’t changed is that The Frankls
(drummer/singer Joseph Frankl, guitarist/singer Jacob Tippey and
bassist/singer Paul Schroder) still write excellent songs featuring
hooks a plenty and often anthem-ready, spine-tingling choruses. But the
variety of the album and the way the trio presents the songs is what
makes Standards so magnetic.

Unlike most Pop Rock bands (especially ones that have a
“Punk” element or pedigree), The Frankl Project doesn’t try to overload
its tracks with giant-sounding guitars that fill every nook and cranny,
opting instead to leave lots of space to create a distinctly airy aura.
Allowing the tracks to breathe and rise and fall without resorting to
predictable dynamics recalls the less-is-more approach that Indie Rock
stars Spoon do so well and makes Standards a gripping listening
experience. With that sonic elbowroom, the musicians’ intriguing
individual parts are more perceptible (Frankl, in particular, is an
incredibly musical drummer and his parts — like Tippey’s guitar work —
are often captivating) and add to The Frankls’ uniqueness. But the
stellar songwriting is still the primary focus.

The album kicks off with “Alive on the Road,” a swaying
rocker that soars on the three musicians’ airtight harmonies, while “My
Hands” has a rootsy sway that would make Jay Farrar nod along
approvingly. After a string of heart-swelling, evocative Pop songs, the
band throws in a few curves, like the jazzy but intense “Heart Shapes
& Hand Grenades,” the quirky but still resonant Indie Pop gem “Find
Your Way,” the ghostly, slow-burning “Chai Bones” and the album’s most
rocking track, “The Ottoman.”

If Weezer, Bad Veins, Ben Folds Five, Sunny Day Real
Estate and Band of Horses every decided to make an album together and
hired a producer with expert knowledge on how to utilize atmosphere as
another instrument (like Joe Henry, Brian Eno or Daniel Lanois), it
might sound like an unfocused patchwork of lazy, hazy Pop. But, if they
(and you) were lucky, it would sound more like The Frankl Project’s
impressively creative Standards.

Ohio Dream Pop/Rock group strangewave performs tonight at The Comet in Northside. J. Trenton Crace and Katrina Eresman formed the compelling group in Dayton not long ago and released their ear-grabbing full-length debut, Pop Noir, earlier this year. It's a fantastic first effort full of hypnotic songs that hover in the same realm as classic Shoegaze, Mazzy Star, Blonde Redhead and Lush, with the diversity from track to track keeping the listener drawn in and mesmerized from start to finish. The twosome is joined by a drummer and bassist for live shows.

Opening the free show at 10 p.m. is Seattle Indie Rock/Soul trio Garage Voice, which claims heavy influence from Gospel music and Memphis Soul and has a Garage Rock spirit, thought its songs are far less derivative and predictable that most other groups given that tag. The soulful sounds of the band — which are laced with cool Hammond Organ stabs, soundscapes and grooves — have something of an atmospheric Psych Pop vibe at times (making them a good fit with strangewave), but ignite into dirty Blues and Rock & Roll outbursts with little to no notice.